7/19 dispatch
you'll be positive though it hurts, and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
one of my favorite nyc transit facts is that if you start playing rilo kiley’s “a better son/daughter” from the 2002 album the execution of all things the second you take off on a manhattan-bound Q train from the dekalb avenue station, assuming no delays, you will emerge into a burst of daylight (or nightlight, i guess) on the manhattan bridge when the transformative second verse starts amid rising drums:
and sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on
and your friends, they sing along and they love you
but the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absence
but you'll fight and you'll make it through, you'll fake it if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile
and you'll be better and you'll be smarter
and more grown up and a better daughter or son, and a real good friend
for the past six days i’ve felt, at turns, pitiful and hopeless, barely able to leave my apartment, and then overwhelmed with gratitude and emotion. i have thought: who gets laid off twice in a year? what’s wrong with me? how do i possibly find the fortitude to keep going when it feels like life is kicking the shit out of me? and then i look at the people who have supported me, who reached out with offers to connect me with people they know who are hiring or have encouraging words for me, the friends who bought me a beach blanket so i can live out my inevitable dream of becoming a rockaways mainstay for the month of august, my perfect boyfriend who was there for me to scream-cry to when i left the office post-layoff and i think: i have abundance in my life in so many ways beyond a job or money. i couldn’t do any of this without my strong support system. i am good at what i do. i have worked so hard for everything i have. a strong network doesn’t materialize out of nowhere or for no reason. i reached escape velocity and i stuck it out with such persistence to the point of probably being annoying and i’m still here. i can do this like i’ve done it before, and better this time.
i’m pretty sure that rilo kiley song is still a stronger personal salve against constantly encroaching despair than any ssri science has created thus far.
here are some observations from the past week:
“there’s no budget for severance” never actually means there is no budget for severance. there is nothing in this world i hate more than an uncomfortable conversation about money at work but i am proud of myself for practicing self-advocacy and not backing down and asking for what i need like i never have before.
i feel like i keep saying it but it’s true: i’m completely overwhelmed by how many people reached out to me last week. i kept tearing up reading instagram messages from friends and acquaintances and strangers. so many kind people who have been in my life for years — or have just followed my work, which imo still counts — emailed or responded to this newsletter with words of encouragement, which i needed so badly. i am so grateful for the people in my networks. i can’t do anything alone but i can do everything with the support of kind strangers and supportive friends.
i especially couldn’t do it without chase, who has been there through all the ugliest moments of my last two (lol) layoffs. he is so patient with me, and generous, and full of righteous anger on my behalf, and good in a crisis, and i love him so much.
how a person chooses to be there for you in the aftermath of a bad situation says so much about them and the role they want to play in your life. in the past three weeks my closest friends have variously experienced emergency health scares, reality-shattering revelations of infidelity in relationships, and pet deaths (july…please…we are begging you to show some mercy). i’m so moved by how my friends have shown up for me in spite of all of their own shit and it’s a privilege for me to be there for them, too.
i’m having a bunch of meetings with people to figure out my path forward and what i’m doing next. not to be so incredibly vague, but i’m building something cool with a friend that i’m excited to share more details about soon.
Glad you're dealing!
For my own part, when I look through the windows of the gym on the treadmill, I look across the Missouri River. There, rising in the hills, is the hospital I was at 50 years ago. As an ironworker working on permit, I fell 3 stories June 18, 1973. So glad to live to see another day!
Thinking of you, Maya. I'm proud of you too!! I'm sorry life is kicking your ass, but you've gotten up every time before, and you'll do it again, and you and your talent are so much more than what job you currently have. Keep going, and I'm excited to see what you do next!